


There's A Place I'd Rather Be

by orphan_account



Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: Hint: they aren't actually talking about boxes, Just a lot of wordplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 19:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10170047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Pete's busy with work, but he would rather be busy with something else.





	

The sun was just setting, turning the sky into a field of tulips and daisies. Inside, the bodega was empty except for the chip bags and coffee cups. Sonny stood behind the cash register counting the day’s profits. The only signs of life in the store were him, Usnavi, and Pete, who was organizing boxes in the backroom to pay back the debt he had gathered up. Only, he was making more annoyed faces than actually organizing. It was pleasantly peaceful not having to deal with a rush. It was the quiet hours in the barrio, where everyone was either at work or eating dinner with their families. Sonny, however, wasn’t granted that luxury. For him, the barrio’s quiet hours were staring blankly at the cash register and bouncing paper wads off of Usnavi’s head. 

Fortunately, Pete was there (more or less voluntarily) to provide entertainment. Well, he would have been there to provide entertainment if he was actually in the front of the shop. He could hear the sound of boxes being shuffled from the back. Emphasis on the word shuffled, because it sounded like Pete was just pushing the boxes across the floor with his foot rather than doing any heavy lifting. Sonny laughed a bit to himself at Pete’s work ethic. To be fair, Pete wouldn’t have to be here organizing boxes if it wasn’t for him. He had gotten into the habit of giving Pete complimentary slushies every time he came into the shop and, according to Usnavi, he couldn’t just _give out slushies like they’re not a whole two dollars, for Christ’s sake_. Which made no sense, because it’s not like Sonny didn’t pretend not to see Usnavi giving Vanessa free coffees every day. Really, Vanessa should be in there lifting boxes to pay off her debts, too.

Usnavi walked across the shop with a small box of soda cans balanced on his hip. Sonny watched him like a hawk watching its prey. Quietly, he tore off a page from the small notepad at the counter and rolled it into a tight ball. Across the room, Usnavi bent down to fill the fridge with fresh soda cans. Sonny narrowed his eyes, aimed, and shot. The paper wad bounced satisfyingly off of Usnavi’s neck. Usnavi pressed his lips together and dropped a can back into the box. He flipped Sonny off over his shoulder and went back to stocking the fridge. Sonny pumped his fist in the air. His aim was improving. Once, when he had first started to chuck paper at his cousin, the wad had veered off course and hit a senile lady, who had promptly threatened to sue them for harassment. Sonny didn’t throw paper wads when the store was busy anymore.

The sound of dragging boxes continued. It was like a really persistent gnat. Sonny shook his head fondly. He knew that Pete could pick up those boxes like they were just bags of cotton fluff. Muscles like his allowed actions like that. Sonny would always be secretly jealous of them; he actually did have to push the boxes across the floor a good percent of the time. Either Pete was really bored, or he was trying to annoy Sonny enough that he would come into the backroom. Or, he was just trying to piss off Usnavi for making him move the boxes in the first place. Really, Sonny couldn’t blame him. Organizing storage was torture in its own unique way. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t even hear the dragging cease. It wasn’t until Pete was suddenly at his side that he snapped out of his thoughts about, well, Pete.

Sonny startled when Pete appeared at the corner of his eye. He instinctively threw his hand over his heart and jumped backwards a bit. “Fuck, dude, don’t sneak up on me,” he muttered.

Pete raised his eyebrows, amused. “I really didn’t,” he said slowly. He laughed slightly and leaned his hip against the counter. “How’s business goin’?” he asked absentmindedly. His eyes were dancing across Sonny’s face, from his eyes to his lips and back. 

Sonny hopped onto the counter – he tended to do that when talking to people taller than him, it just made talking easier for everyone – and shrugged. “Slow, boring,” he said.

“Can’t be more boring than it is back there,” Pete countered. He glanced over to where Usnavi was now turned away, counting stock in the candy aisle since the store was practically closed at this hour of the day, anyways. The smell of coffee that always seemed to linger in the shop intertwined with the air around them. Pete looked back to Sonny and gave him a charming half smile. “Though, judging by the amount of paper wads litterin’ the floor, I might be wrong.” Pete wasn’t looking at the paper on the floor, though. He was too busy taking in Sonny’s ragged appearance.

Sonny shrugged again. “Nah, it’s worse back there. Organizing storage is a job meant for delinquents and idiots,” he said while swinging his feet a bit.

Pete cocked his head. “Which one am I, then?” he teased. He moved closer to Sonny and put his hands on the counter on either side of him.

Sonny scoffed. “Both,” he said. He tilted his head back a bit to look at Pete. Even sitting on the counter, he was too short to be eye to eye with him. His gaze traveled from Pete’s eyes to his smug smile. Pete pulled away, and Sonny frowned.

“Damn, didn’t know you felt that way,” Pete said with mock hurt, “I was just trying to cure my boredom.” He feigned a sigh and dramatically turned away to grab the beaten up chair that stayed behind the counter. Sonny rolled his eyes.

“Drama queen, get your ass back over here,” Sonny said. Pete turned the chair around and straddled it.

“Any reason why I should?” Pete asked, batting his eyes innocently. The sound of papers shuffling traveled from Usnavi’s spot in the abyss of aisles. Sonny pursed his lips. So, that’s how it was going to be. Two could play that game.

Sonny shook his head. “Nah, you have boxes to sort,” he said. He hopped off the counter and punched a key into the cash register so that the tray popped open. “And, I have money to count. Get back to work, delinquent.” Sonny bit back a smirk at the silence that followed.

“I was just playin’,” Pete said. He stood up and went to wrap his arms around Sonny’s waist. “You know that. Come help me sort boxes,” he said into his ear. Sonny shrugged him off. Pete took a step backwards, worried that he had overstepped.

“You’ve got two hands, don’t you? I’ve seen you use them before,” Sonny said, a hint of suggestion in his tone. “Not for boxes, though.” Pete raised his eyebrows. So _that’s_ how it was going to be. To be fair, he had started it in the midst of his boredom. His eyes sparkled. He was up to the challenge.

“I could always use two more hands,” Pete replied, “For the boxes, of course. It gets boring by myself.” He lightly trailed a hand down Sonny’s arm. Sonny’s heart jumped at the feeling. He pulled his arm away to grab a stack of bills from the register.

“You think you would have gotten used to working all by yourself,” Sonny said casually, running a finger through the wad of money, “Since you usually paint alone, that is.”

Pete gently turned Sonny around by the shoulder. “I prefer working with a partner,” he replied. He ran a thumb over Sonny’s cheek and relished in the pink blush it caused.

Sonny dropped his gaze down to Pete’s lips, and then to the money in his hand. “My hands are a bit full, right now,” he said, waving the stack of money.

Pete tilted his head to the side as he ran his thumb down Sonny’s jaw. Sonny felt his pulse pick up. “Wish I could say the same,” Pete said, pausing for a moment, “But, I’m not lifting boxes right now.” Pete nudged Sonny so that he was leaning against the counter and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Maybe you should get back to work, then,” Sonny said, not breaking eye contact with Pete. Pete hummed thoughtfully. 

“Who says that I’m not getting to work right now?” Pete replied. He leaned forward to press kisses down Sonny’s jawline. Sonny tilted his head back. “Come help me sort boxes?” He asked again.

This time, Sonny led the way into the backroom.


End file.
